


Summer Olympics

by heget



Series: Vanyar [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26699947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heget/pseuds/heget
Summary: Indis and her children attend a sporting festival at the base of Oiolossë.
Series: Vanyar [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/84973
Kudos: 13





	Summer Olympics

**Author's Note:**

> A old gift for [Kate](https://kareenvorbarra.tumblr.com/), a story focused solely on Indis and her children.

Indis took her children to one of the many summer festivals of the Vanyar that was celebrated with physical activities, named for the slopes of the Oiolossë where the festival was held for the joy of sporting competitions. It was one of the events Indis had loved ever since coming to Valinor, and the pressed victory wreaths from running events were stacked from base to lid one of the painted pine storage chests that she took with her when she moved from Valmar back to Tirion. It was Lalwendë and Ñolofinwë’s professed goals to earn their own wreath today, so Indis and their siblings were prepared to cheer them on.

Findis cared not for heavy physical exertion or the press of crowds and attention. She was content to sit under one of the awnings that dotted the spectators' sides of the field, accompanied by a few Vanyar friends, and watch the events. They waved their ostrich and discarded peacock feather fans and screamed loudly in support for Findis’s family and their favorites among the Vanyar athletes. Findis spent most of the wrestling tournament learning how to make a high-pitched whistle. Lalwendë teased her older sister about being interested in the gleaming near naked forms of well-sculpted wrestlers. Findis primly replied that of course she was ogling the athletes; an _appreciation_ and celebration of the elven body was the point of the festival. And the pecs on the second-place wrestler were as fine as Tulkas Astaldo himself, though the one contestant that used the novel grappling method with his legs had a fabulous buttocks. She had no interest in an introduction to the athlete, though Lalwendë was free to if she wished.

Lalwendë entered almost all of the running events, from the fast sprints to the hurdles to the longer distances. She only won one of them, and has spent the majority of her energy before the long chase, but she proclaimed it was worth it. No one else had entered as many races as she, and thus she had earned a special glory.

Ñolofinwë excelled in the events he entered, especially the weight tossing and the combined event. He teamed up with one of the Vanyar boys, a mutual friend of his and Anairë, for the relay, and came in second thanks to the smoothness of their passes. Ñolofinwë, for all his mother’s height, had the stockier body-build of Finwë, and thus was not able to keep up in the pure sprinting portions of the race. But the Vanyar athletes who spent the focus of their childhoods and goals on competition in these events were quick to praise the Noldor prince for competing on the same level as devotees of Tulkas and Nessa.

Arafinwë was not as keen on joining the events as his elders, though he was interested in the spear-throwing contest. He questioned the competitors afterwards, trying to dissect their techniques in comparison to the methods used by the spear-fishing of his friend Eärwen and her brothers of the Teleri. And he surprised everyone by coming in third in the weight-lifting division of his class. Except Ñolofinwë, who loudly bragged that his little brother was stronger than he looked.

But it was the giant tug-a-war event that truly excited Arafinwë, and with bright eyes he pressed the family to join in. Laughing merrily, all four of the siblings and Indis grabbed at the end of the thick rope, leaning against each other, feet digging into the fresh soil as they pulled against the other team. Even Findis strained and pulled, shouting at the laughing Lalwendë and intense Ñolofinwë and Arafinwë and commanding that they put all their backs into it and drag that scrap of colorful fabric across their line. With one final tug they succeeded, and as the other team fell, the children of Indis stumbled back and ended up falling on top of their mother. Indis didn’t mind, for as they lay there sweating and exhausted she could pull her arms around them and hold all her children, warmed by the love they shared as a family.


End file.
